


Differentiation

by LuckyDiceKirby



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Kink Meme, M/M, Stereotypes, but I did anyway, i shouldn't be allowed to name fics after calculus, this is kind of silly honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyDiceKirby/pseuds/LuckyDiceKirby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Karkat Vantas, and the universe hates you, which is probably why some wayward punk decided it was a good idea to kidnap you and make you miss class. Goddammit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Differentiation

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [this kink meme prompt](http://homesmut.livejournal.com/15949.html?thread=34286157#t34286157), which basically asked for nerd!Karkat and rebel!John, since it's usually the other way around.

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are currently late for your Calculus class. Which objectively is fine, because your Calculus teacher probably likes it better when you're not there to swear colorfully when you can't integrate something correctly, but from your point of view it is fucking unacceptable because you have not been tardy once this year, goddammit, and if that stupid flighty broad of a librarian would have just answered your fucking question--

You don't quite realize you've been muttering all of this aloud until you turn a corner in the hallway and catch some dumbass recording you with his cell phone and cracking up. 

"Fuck off," you mutter, trying to resist the urge to turn bright red.

You fail to resist the urge. That better not be a camera phone.

"Dude, that was hilarious," the asshole says. 

Taking a chance to actually look this kid in the eye turns out to be a mistake; he looks like he could probably beat you up with one hand tied behind his back. He's got an almost faded but not quite black eye, and by the crooked jut of his nose it probably wasn't his first one, and how many piercings can one person get before their face turns into Swiss cheese and starts to grow mold? More than seven, apparently. To be fair, only two are actually on his face proper. Are ears part of the face? 

You hunch your shoulders and try to just walk on by. Keep walking, there are totally cameras everywhere in this school, no way he'll try anything--

"Hey, come on, don't go!" the kid says, grabbing the back of your hoodie and tugging you back. God. Dammit.

"What?" you say, crossing your arms and glaring up at him. Pretty far up. Why does everyone have to be so stupidly tall? Does the universe just hate you or something?

Who are you kidding. Of course the universe hates you. That's why you're standing in the middle of a hallway with some punk who's probably going to throw you in a dumpster or something, instead of sitting at your desk learning Calculus so you can pass your AP test and not get an earful from your tightass father about wasting his precious money when it was his idea for you to take it in the first place.

"Sorry you had to deal with Snowman so early in the morning," the kid says. It's sixth period. You bet he doesn't even bother coming to school until fourth. "She can be kind of a bitch. Me and Vriska were thinking of egging her house later, actually. Wanna come?"

Snowman is the aforementioned school librarian and/or flighty broad, who also happens to be batshit crazy. She and your Calculus teacher have a really weird sort of violent... thing, which is something you'd rather not think about. You were kind of counting on it to get you out of being counted late, though, since blaming something on Snowman is the best way to get Mr. Slick on your side. It's starting to look like you're not going to make it to class at all, though, which will be your first absence of the year. Fucking fantastic. 

"No," you snap, and you are about to follow this up by insulting both him, his mother, and his future life prospects, most of which probably involve ending up in jail, but you take another look at his face and think the better of it. "Can I go to class now, dipshit?" You didn't mean to say that last part. Dammit, your stupid mouth is going to get you killed, all because your stupid repressed father won't let you curse and home and you have to get it out of your system during the day. 

Also you heard somewhere that cursing heightens your pain threshold, and pretty much every fucking day is an endless parade of misery, so you figure it helps. And it's the only way to piss off teachers without jeopardizing your grades. You are so efficient it should be illegal.

Punkass raises an eyebrow at you and gives you a once over. You keep glaring. Finally he snaps his fingers and says, "Hey, you're Karkat Vantas, aren't you?"

"And you're a stalker. Lovely to meet you." Yeah, being polite is for people who aren't jeopardizing their Calculus grade.

"John, actually, but good guess. What's your problem, anyway?"

"My problem?" you ask, incredulous. "My fucking _problem_ is, asshole, that--"

He waves a hand at you. "Sorry, I don't actually care," he says. "I was just trying to point out that you're kind of a grouchy asshole."

"And you're all sunshine and rainbows with a fucking pot of gold up your ass? I have places to be, you know."

"Yeah yeah, bluh bluh bluh Karkat Vantas is the smartest and always goes to class even if he spends it all yelling at his work, whatever."

You stand there and seethe and try not to say anything too wildly insulting. At least it's not 'Karkat Vantas the squishy short little asshole' anymore. Freshman You was a fuckass anyway.

"So anyway, I was wondering if you could help me with some homework?" John asks. 

"By help, I'm assuming you mean 'do for you'."

"Heh, yeah," John says. "I mean, it's not like any of this shit is really important, right? Maybe if we had a class on pranking I'd actually show up sometime!"

Ugh, whatever. "No, I'm not going to help you cheat on your pathetic homework."

The stupid punkass sticks his tongue out at you. He is simultaneously an idiotic five year old and a terrifying teenager. How does that even work? "Don't act all high and mighty just because you buy into all this bullshit. Getting good grades is just like level grinding in a video game, but more boring! I could do all that if I wanted to stay up until midnight doing something that won't matter in ten years."

"So staying up until midnight playing video games is somehow a better use of your time? What kind of rationalizing bullshit is that? You're just a lazy punkass with no future, don't take it out on me."

The bell rings. Yup, there goes Calculus. Now hopefully you'll be able to get away during the passing period and make it to your Computer Programming class in time-- you're honestly terrible at it, it takes twice as much work as any of your other classes just to do decently, and decent isn't exactly good enough in the Vantas household--and of course you're not getting away, of course this stupid punkass is dragging you off to who knows where. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, fuckass?" you ask, trying in vain to regain possession of your own arm. Damn your scrawny little stick arms, damn them to hell.

"You clearly just have no idea what you're missing!" John says. "We're going to go have fun. The skipping school kind of fun! And then maybe later we'll go egg Snowman's house if Vriska actually shows up and isn't just torturing Tavros again. I keep telling her that's kind of a bitch move but she never listens, you know?"

"Speaking of people who won't listen," you say, "fucking let me go."

"Nope!"

"I have class."

"Me too! Look at how many fucks I give. No fucks! None of them!"

And that's how you end up missing your last two classes of the day because this annoying punk accosts you. Past You should have known better than to take that shortcut back from the library.

-

"No," you say, with as much finality you can muster up after having been dragged by your arm all the way to the parking lot. "Fuck. No. There is a line, punkass, and this does not just cross it. It flies over it in a jet plane and parachutes out, and then it fails to deploy the parachute in a timely manner and dies."

"Wait, is that what we're supposed to be learning in English class? Terrible extended metaphors?"

"Don't blame me for your ignorance, you'd know if you showed up. Back to the point: that is a motorcycle. Which you apparently intend for me to ride with you. That is not a thing that is going to be happening."

"Sure it is!" John chirps. "C'mon, it's not that hard. You don't even have to do anything, just hold on." He climbs onto the deathtrap and looks at you expectantly.

"What part of 'no' do you not understand, asshole?"

"You know, you could call me by my name, Karkat. It's the polite thing to do! Anyway, just get on, you're wasting both of our time. We have places to be, pizza to eat, houses to desecrate!"

"Okay then, _John_ , has it occurred to you in the past ten minutes that I did not sign up for this, that I have no desire to go anywhere with you, whether it be for pizza or some sort of useless juvenile delinquency that, knowing my luck, will only end in tears? Has that thought penetrated your clearly very thick skull?"

John shrugs. "I was kind of hoping you'd get over it and lose whatever stick got shoved up your ass. I mean, geez! Would it kill you to calm down once in a while?" 

You clench and unclench your fists. "If I say yes, can I go to class?"

"You can," John says, "but if you do, I won't text my friend who works in the attendance office this hour and tell her to take our absences out of the system. Well, I will, but she'll only take out mine. As per our usual agreement."

Ah, the sweet smell of blackmail in the hazy afternoon. Also, wait. There is only one dame classy enough to be allowed to work in the attendance office during her free period, and she is much too damely and much too classy to associate with punks like John. "You've corrupted Rose Lalonde? What, do you just ruin everything you touch or something?"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions, Karkat! Me and Rose are old friends."

"And she doesn't object to you skipping half of your classes?"

"She just uses it as an excuse to give me 'lessons' in whatever she wants to babble on about on any given day. Usually weird psychology." John makes a face. "It's a challenge to listen to her, but it's worth it!"

On the one hand, getting your absences struck from the record is probably some form of gateway rulebreaking. On the other hand, you're under duress, and today is shaping up to be unusually terrible. At least it'll be one less thing to worry about. "Fine, okay, I'll go, just please tell me you have a helmet."

Predictably, he doesn't.

"Okay, you know what, fucking fine, this is clearly my destiny, if I die at this point it might kind of be a blessing! One last question, then."

"What?" John asks, impatiently.

"Why the fuck does your motorcycle have 'Casey' written on the side in bright orange? Did you piss off a graffiti artist or something?"

John laughs so hard he nearly falls off the damn thing. You snicker a little too. At his misfortune, obviously. 

He looks a lot less scary when he laughs, and maybe they do make his face look a little like Swiss cheese, but the snake bites fit him, with his sleek black frames and messy black hair. 

"It's a long story," he says, finally, once he gets himself together and reseats himself. "But you could say she's kind of like my daughter! Or something. Listen, I like her a lot and it's totally an honor that I'm letting you ride her, okay?"

"I really hope you never say something like that about your actual daughter, because then I think I might throw up," you say, belligerently, but you get on. John laughs again, and now that you're sitting right behind him you can feel it. 

"Wow, I didn't know you had it in you! Karkat Vantas, he of the famed perfect grade point average, can make a dirty joke."

"It kind of made itself. You should watch what you say, idiot."

"But this is more fun! Also, hold on!" That's all the warning you get before John revs the engine and you're off. You end up scrabbling to grab onto him before you end up facefirst on the pavement, and god, would it kill the guy to be a bit more considerate? Was he just born without the part of his brain that thought about consequences?

Also, fuck, has anyone told him about speed limits? 

"Hey, Karkat!" he shouts back at you, about ten minutes into the ride, ten minutes which you have spent clinging on to his torso for dear life and being very very thankful that no one from school is around to see you clinging to someone on the back of a motorcycle. Because that would fucking go well.

"What," you grind out, shouting in his ear and hoping it's loud enough to hurt. 

"I kind of need to breathe? You can loosen up a little if you, you know, want," he says. Oh. Maybe he is a little out of breath.

"And I kind of need to live, but that doesn't seem to be affecting your driving very much. We all have our crosses to bear."

"Whine whine whine. We're almost there anyway, just try not to strangle me in the meantime."

A few minutes later, John pulls into the parking lot of a dumpy looking pizza restaurant. You gratefully jump off the motorcycle the minute John puts on the brakes, and you pointedly ignore how wobbly your legs are. Judging by the smirk John is giving you, you aren't fooling anyone.

You glare at him and he _ruffles your fucking hair_. "Hey, no, punkass, get your fucking hand off me," you snarl, and he starts a little, taken aback. "I am not your cuddly puppy, regardless of our relative heights and builds. I will, however, be happy to bite your hand off if you persist in treating me like a fucking dog." Okay, you're pretty sure you wouldn't actually bite him. He probably doesn't know that.

John scratches the back of his head, bewildered. "Sorry, man," he says. "I didn't mean anything by it. It was just kind of… there."

You sigh. "Of course you didn't. Fuck, whatever, forget about it, Past Me's an idiot with stupid issues. Just don't ruffle my hair, okay? I'm not a little girl."

"Or a puppy, got it. You know, does it really count as you from the past if its really just you from five minutes ago?"

"Five minutes ago was in the past."

John shakes his head at you, as if you're the absurd one here, and then he changes the subject, which is the first tactful thing he has done in the short time you have known him. "Wow, my whole showing you the fun of skiving off plan is kind of failing miserably so far. Obviously the solution is pizza. And hey, we're at a pizza joint! Serendipity at its finest." 

You trudge up to the restaurant door and say nothing, because if you do you'll probably just make an ass of yourself again. Not that it really matters, because pretty much all John has done so far is make an ass of himself. But still. 

The pizza is surprisingly good for such a sketchy place. John gets points for taste.

"You learn all the best fast food places skipping school," he says cheerfully when you mention it.

"Which is _clearly_ a better use of your time than learning anything _in_ school."

"Obviously!"

You just shake your head and take another bite of pizza. 

"I'm serious, though," John continues. "Is knowing Calculus or whatever else any more useful than knowing where to get this delicious pizza? I think pizza wins any time, man."

"There is a time and place for pizza," you say. "And while you should be at school, like a normal fucking teenager, is not the time. Although I'm pretty sure this is definitely the place, goddamn this is good." You take another bite.

"What you're telling me here is that you'd rather be herded around a giant building with a ton of other people who I'm pretty sure you hate, and be lectured at and mistrusted by a bunch of cranky people who you probably also hate. That is what I am getting from this conversation, Karkat."

"That's not what I'm saying, dumbass. I'm saying that I have priorities! Are you five? Did you never learn that not everything is perfect, and sometimes you have to do things you don't want to? Did that memo get lost in the mail, or was your brain just an inadequate mail slot for it?"

"I don't think brains have mail slots, actually! You probably should have paid more attention in Anatomy."

"Even if they did, you probably wouldn't even know. Since you never go to class. How would that feel? Going through life and never knowing that encased within your thick skull was a fully functional mail receptacle?"

John leans his head on his hand, tilting it to the side and giving you an odd look. "I actually can't tell if you mean any of that," he says, wonderingly. "Man, you would be the best at pranks."

You're too busy looking at his wrist to reply. "You have a tattoo. Of course you have a tattoo. Why am I not surprised?"

"Oh yeah," he says, lifting his head to look at the inside of his wrist. "Me and Dave got them together a few months ago. You know, like as a bro pact!"

"I'm going to pretend you did not just say the words 'bro pact' in a serious fashion, and am instead going to wonder what kind of parents you have that let you get a tattoo at such a tender age of your idiothood."

"Duh, we just used fake IDs, it was fine. Heh, we even told the tattoo artist we were engaged and it was our wedding gift to each other! She totally bought it, we got them for half price!" John grins dopily at the memory. Because extorting tattoo artists is obviously hilarious. It probably falls under his definition of a prank. Still, though, the grin looks good on him. 

"She bought that you were old enough to get married?"

"We both wore fake mustaches. It was fine!"

You think he might be joking. You really, really hope he's joking.

"Any particular reason you decided to get random swirls permanently carved into your wrist?"

"Oh, well, the artist said it fit me! Dave got a gear, it's pretty sweet."

"What, did you just ask the artist for suggestions and go with whatever she said?"

"Well, yeah," John says.

No number of facepalm combos will ever be enough to express your dismay at John's stupidity.

"Wow, okay, that is probably one of the dumbest things I have ever heard, and I go to a public high school."

"Hey, so you do admit school is pretty dumb!" John perks up a bit. Not this again.

"No, the people I have to deal with on a daily basis are dumb. Extremely dumb. Their dumbness would probably be enough to solve world hunger if someone ever invented a way to convert lack of intelligence into a foodstuff, which no one ever will, because everyone is too fucking dumb."

"Well, you're not!"

"How do you fucking know? We've known each other for all of a few hours."

John scratches at the back of his head. "Well, yeah, but everyone knows about you! I mean, you're Karkat Vantas, y'know? You're always at the top of all your classes and you either yell at people or ignore them and you don't take shit from anyone."

You stare at him. "That's what you think?" you ask. "You're completely ridiculous. You are an incompetent moron and you should spend more time listening to Lalonde, fucknuts, your psychoanalyzing skills are pathetic. Freud is probably crying subconscious tears in his grave right now. Do you think everyone is like you, John? Some people actually _care_ about shit, not everyone can just do whatever they want and get away with it!"

John blinks at you. "Um," he says. "I get an earful from Jade sometimes."

"You got a fucking tattoo just because some artist you didn't even know thought it 'fit you'! Don't you ever worry about anything?"

"Well," he says, "right now I'm a little worried we're going to get kicked out of this restaurant, which would suck because that's happened to me before and if it happens again I think they might not let me back in."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about! What stupid decision did you make that managed to get your punk ass kicked out of here?" You do make an effort to lower your voice, because John's right, some of the staff are giving you wary looks, and the last thing you need is to have them call the police. 

He actually looks a little sheepish. He pushes a stray gob of cheese around on his plate with his straw before he answers. "It's kind of a long story," he says, and he scratches at the remnants of the bruise over his left eye. 

You just look at him, hoping your eyes can somehow convey at least a fraction of your all-encompassing contempt.

"It wasn't my fault!" John protests. "Some people were talking shit about Jade. She's like my sister, you know?"

"So you got into a fight. Which was the logical decision to make."

"Heh, actually, it was more like I bribed one of the cooks to rig their pizza to slightly, uh, explode. It was awesome, Dave got pictures!"

You try your best, you really do, but you can't help but crack up. John grins at you in triumph. "See, you think it's awesome too!"

"Just because the image of some douchebags covered in pizza sauce is side-splittingly hilarious does not mean I think actually attempting it at home is in any way a safe or sane idea. How did sabotaging their pizza give you a black eye, anyway?"

"Oh, well, that part came when the guy I bribed told them what I did and one of them punched me. Then I threatened to run them over with my bike and they ran off."

You snort. "As if that motorcycle would be able to go through something without crumpling into so much sad and misused tinfoil."

"Hey! Don't talk about Casey like that. She's had a long hard life and I love her. I mean, you're probably right. But they don't know that!"

"So how did Jade take all this?"

"She punched me in the arm."

The staff are still giving you odd looks, but at least you don't think they're going to throw you out for howling with laughter. 

"And that," you say, once you can breathe again, "is why maybe you should think about consequences once in a while."

John sticks his tongue out at you again. You come pretty close to flicking some sauce at him, but manage to restrain yourself just in time. Instead you make him pay the check. He did drag you here, after all.

As you clamber back onto Casey behind John, it occurs to you that you came very close to having an honest-to-god feelings jam with a punk whom you've known for about half a day, and you are now about to let him drive you to an arcade to play inane video games. On his motorcycle which he may or may not have a license for and which he definitely does not have any helmets for. And the only real problem you have with any of this is the fact that it's his fault you missed seventh hour, and therefore his fault that Sollux is going to give you an earful when you have to ask him obvious questions about the Computer Programming lesson you missed.

In fact, programming shenanigans aside, you're actually feeling kind of happy about it. Underneath the unthinking jerkassery, John is pretty okay. The number of people you consider to be 'pretty okay' rarely exceeds five at any given time, with the only permanent member being Kanaya.

You thunk your forehead against John's back. Something is very, very wrong here.

-

You're not nearly as good as John is at Pac-man, since you don't spend an inordinate amount of time bumming around at arcades, but you can still kick his ass at any fighting game. 

"Geez, how are you so good at this?" he demands. "I thought you spent all your time studying!"

"Ever hear of stress relief?" you ask, as your character calmly roundhouse kicks his in the face. 

He pouts at you, which with the snake bites and faded black eye is a sight to see. 

It's about then that some wannabe scene kid with layered hair and giant aviators shows up and shoves John to the side in order to take over his controls. Suddenly your character has been stabbed in the face and is lying sadly on the pavement. And he fought so valiantly, too. 

"What the fuck?" you demand, turning to face crazy scene girl, but John's already poking her and laughing.

"Man, you've always been kind of scarily good at this game, Vriska," he says.

Oh. The aviators should have tipped you off; this is Vriska Serket, your school's resident whiny drama queen and huge bitch. Who Kanaya may or may not be obsessed with, depending on whom you ask. That is to say, Kanaya will deny it, and no one will believe her. It would be kind of sweet, if Serket weren't so blatantly off her rocker. She and the rocker are probably in different galaxies at this point.

And of course, she's friends with John. Why are you not surprised. 

"Joooooooohn, you were supposed to meet me to mess up Snowman's house! An hour ago. One hour! Do you have any idea how precious one hour of my time is?"

"Oh yeah! Sorry, I just kind of lost track of time," John says. 

"Ugh, you are so lame sometimes! Whatever. I have better things to do anyway! Like top secret senior Assassins things. Too bad you can't play, huh?"

You have no idea what she's talking about, and it must show on your face, because she turns to you and sneers. 

"Who's this loser?" 

"That's Karkat!" John says. "And he's actually pretty cool, Vriska, don't be so mean."

"I'll be the judge of that," she says. "But seriously? You don't even know about Assassins? What kind of rock do you live under?"

"The kind that gets shit done and doesn't have time for whatever nonsense it is you're talking about," you say, crossing your arms. And today was shaping up to be a not terrible day. Of course someone like Serket has to show up and ruin it all. 

"Oh riiiiiiiight, you're that snooty smartass everyone's always talking about! What, are you allergic to having fun and being not boring or something?"

"Just allergic to assholes, that's all."

"Ha! That's really funny! Not. Bluh, you geeks are all so annoying, no wonder no one ever told you about Assassins. It's a game the seniors play! We all get a target we have to eliminate outside of school, and once we do that, we get another one, until there's only one person left! And that person is going to be me. Because I am simply the best assassin there is."

"By 'eliminate', she means 'shoot with a water gun'," John clarifies, and it's kind of sad that it was necessary, but Serket's been know to do some crazy shit. You wouldn't put actual physical harm past her. 

"Which I keep telling Feferi is _boring_ , we could totally use something a little more interesting! But everyone picked her so she gets to be in charge, even though I would be a way better leader. Ugh. Anyway, Egbert, know where I can find Aradia Megido this time of day?"

"I think she and Dave are in the school darkroom, they said something about finishing up a project," he says.

"Seriously, she's staying on school grounds? Laaaaaaaame. Lame cowardly coward. Fine, whatever, I'll find her tomorrow. You can egg Snowman's house yourself, I'm gonna go find Terezi. She's supposed to be practicing for a debate tournament, so obviously I'm obligated to distract her as much as possible!"

"Well, duh," John agrees. "See you later, Vriska!" Serket punches John in the shoulder and wrinkle her nose up at you before she saunters out of the arcade. John bursts out laughing as soon as she leaves.

"What's so funny?" you demand. "All I see is a crazy bitch with an attitude problem." Who apparently is the sort of person John likes to hang out with. Why is he spending time with you, then? It's not like you can ever hope to compete with that special brand of crazy. 

"Aw, she's not so bad once you get to know her." You give him a deadpan look. "Well, okay, she's still kind of bad. But I like her anyway. And I can keep her in check, which is good!"

"Because you're such an upstanding member of society?" you ask incredulously. "Who keeps _you_ in check, then?"

"Jade, mostly," he says. "Anyway, guess what? Aradia's not at school at all! She's tracking Equuis up by the horse stables just outside of town, cause he's _her_ target. Vriska'll be so angry when she finds out!"

You snort. "So you're sabotaging her? 

"Only a bit," he says, with this stupid sneaky grin. "Wanna go another round?" He gestures towards the game you'd been playing before Serket barged in on you. You wonder if John asked her to come here. He was probably getting bored with you or something.

You check your watch. Then you check it again, and after that you have to stop yourself from completing a full 3x WATCH CHECK COMBO. Because that would be dumb, and you only really need to check your watch once to ascertain that you have, in fact, been at this arcade for a ridiculous number of hours, and it is, in face, eight o'clock.

"Jesus fuck," you mutter. "I have to get home, I have such a monumental pile of homework that my brain hurts just thinking about it, and I would actually like to sleep sometime before two tonight. So no, I do not wanna go another round. I would greatly appreciate it if you could give me a ride home on your ugly death trap and not be a complete fuckass about it, if at all possible."

"Casey's not ugly," he says defensively. "Anyway, it's so early still! And we haven't even made it to Snowman's house yet! C'mon, Karkat--"

"Is this why you never go to class? Did the part of your brain devoted to listening atrophy at some point in your short, pathetic, pointless life? This is so fucking typical. Whatever, I'll call Kanaya and get a ride or something, you can just stay here and play games until your brain melts for all I care." You start fumbling around in your pocket looking for your phone, but John grabs your forearm to stop you.

"I'm not trying to get on your nerves, I promise," he says earnestly. "I just seriously think you need to get out more. Don't you ever have fun?"

You shrug, and hunch your shoulders down, staring at the floor. "What's it to you, anyway? I'm just a geek who does his fucking work like half the school never bothers to do, including your sorry ass. This whole day has been a big fucking mistake, obviously you'd rather hang out with interesting people like fucking Serket, I'll just go, okay?"

John looks puzzled. "That's not true, Karkat. You're kind of awesome! I mean, you're a little judgmental and angry, but you're really funny. And determined. You shouldn't put yourself down so much! Anyway, I guess it's fine if you want to go home now, but there's gonna be a party at Dave's house Friday night, and I was wondering if you wanted to come! Like, as my guest, I guess." 

"Shouldn't you buy me dinner first, Egbert?" 

"I think I already did!" he responds immediately. Then he pauses for a moment. "And uh, I mean, I didn't mean like as a date or anything. Um." He scratches at his tattoo distractedly. You wonder if he realizes he's doing it.

You roll your eyes, and consider making some comment about the lady protesting too much, but John probably wouldn't even get what you were talking about. "Yeah yeah, I'm sure I'm enough of an embarrassment to have at a party as a 'guest', let alone a date, I get it."

"Hey, that's not what I meant," he says, sounding a little hurt. "Sometimes people mean what they say, Karkat."

You bury your face in your hands. Sometimes you should just learn to stop talking. "Yeah, whatever, can I just go home now? This conversation is making me want to bang my head against a wall repeatedly."

"Sure," he says. "So um. Is that a yes to the party?"

"I do not want to go to your friend's ridiculous coolkid party, John," you say tiredly. "I will feel awkward and out of place and you will probably be an inconsiderate ass who will proceed to abandon me immediately after you say hi when I show up."

John starts to say something, and then stops. He thinks for a moment, which is probably a new experience for him. "See, I told you," he says finally. "Sometimes people say what they mean."

-

You get home by eight thirty, which is okay, but still much later than you'd like. When your father asks where you've been, you make up some bullshit about a group project you were working on, and then you abscond up to your room, fully prepared to finish your homework and go immediately to bed and not spend any more time thinking about John Egbert and his stupid parties and stupid, mildly attractive face, and also fully prepared to completely erase from your mind Past You's infinite idiocy and mortification.

The problem with that is, not thinking about those things takes up a considerable amount of energy, and makes it about as impossible to get any work done as actually thinking about them would. You give up and decide to pester Kanaya.

**carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering grimAuxilatrix [GA] at 8:44**

** CG: KANAYA.  
** CG: KANAYA PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE AWAKE AND HAVE NOT PASSED OUT SEWING OR DOING SOMETHING ELSE DUMB.  
CG: AS MUCH AS IT PAINS ME TO ADMIT IT I AM IN DIRE NEED OF SOME ADVICE, AS I HAVE SHOCKINGLY MANAGED TO MAKE A HUGE ASS OF MYSELF.  
CG: UGH. FUCK. NEVERMIND.  
GA: I Am Here Karkat  
GA: You Know There Is A Quality Typically Called Patience  
GA: I Think You Could Perhaps Benefit From Some Of It  
CG: YEAH YEAH YEAH, I CAN LEARN TOUCHING MORAL LESSONS AND GROW AS A PERSON LATER.  
GA: Dont Think I Won't Hold You To That  
GA: Anyway  
GA: What Is It You Need Assistance With  
CG: OKAY  
CG: WELL  
CG: FUCK.  
CG: I'M NOT REALLY SURE WHERE TO START.  
CG: OKAY. SO THERE'S THIS IDIOT, JOHN. WHO GOES TO OUR SCHOOL, ALTHOUGH I USE THE WORD "GOES" IN ONLY THE MOST CURSORY SENSE, SINCE I'M PRETTY SURE HE DOESN'T SHOW UP FOR MOST OF HIS CLASSES. BECAUSE HE'S AN UNIMANIGABLY USELESS PUNK. THIS IS SOMETHING I CANNOT UNDERSCORE ENOUGH. THIS KID SCREAMS BAD NEWS LIKE A WINDOWLESS WHITE VAN.  
CG: AND I MADE THE MISTAKE OF BEING LATE FOR CALCULUS TODAY. I GUESS KARMA DECIDED TO BE ITS USUAL BITCHY SELF AND BITE ME IN THE ASS, SO I RAN INTO HIM IN THE HALLWAY. A VARIETY OF UNFORTUNATE SHENANIGANS ENSUED, THE UPSHOT BASICALLY BEING HE KIDNAPPED ME AND DRAGGED ME AROUND TOWN UNTIL ABOUT AN HOUR AGO.  
GA: Okay  
GA: What About This Particular Situation Is Bothering You So Much  
GA: Not That I Advocate You Skipping Your Classes But Missing One Will Not Kill You  
GA: And I Am Always Telling You That You Should Try To Make More Friends  
CG: AS IF I COULD EVER WANT ANY FRIENDS OTHER THAN YOU KANAYA.  
CG: I MEAN, WHO WOULD WANT A FRIEND WHO ISN'T OBSESSED WITH FASHION AND VAMPIRES AND A CERTAIN CRAZY BITCH?  
CG: WHOM I ACTUALLY MET TODAY ON MY ADVENTURES IN WASTING TIME AND SANITY, BECAUSE APPRENTLY TERRIBLE EVENTS JUST HAVE TO GO TOGETHER LIKE THAT.  
GA: I Know You Were Attempting Sarcasm But Really Karkat  
GA: I Am Quite Sure I Am The Only Person You Have Shared Your Love Of Silly And Predictable Romantic Comedies With  
GA: And I Am Thus Sure You Do In Fact Value My Friendship A Great Deal  
GA: Also  
GA: I Am Not Obsessed With Vriska Serket  
GA: We Are Merely Acquaintances  
GA: She Is The Most Entertaining Part Of My Apparel Class  
GA: Other Than The Actual Apparel  
GA: She Also Cannot Sew In A Straight Line And Often Requires My Assistance  
CG: KANAYA.  
GA: What  
CG: YOU'RE BABBLING.  
GA: Oh  
GA: Yes  
GA: I Suppose I Am  
CG: AND YOU'RE ABOUT TO ASK ME HOW I MET HER, AREN'T YOU.  
GA: Well No  
GA: I Was Going To Inquire More About Your Situation First  
GA: But Yes I Was Planning On Eventually Making My Way Back To The Subject  
CG: NORMALLY I WOULD GIVE YOU WAY MORE SHIT ABOUT THAT, BUT HONESTLY I'M NOT SURE IF I'M EVEN QUALIFIED TO RIDICULE YOUR POOR CRUSH DECISIONS ANYMORE.  
CG: MAYBE THIS IS WHY WE GET ALONG SO WELL KANAYA.  
CG: WE'RE BOTH IDIOTS AND WE BOTH LIKE IDIOTS AND IT'S ALL JUST ONE BIG INCESTUOUS SLURRY OF IDIOCY.  
GA: Yes Well  
GA: If You Would Perhaps Elaborate A Bit More Then I Might Understand Your Situation Better  
CG: HE FUCKING ASKED ME TO A PARTY.  
CG: WHO KIND OF ASSHOLE ACTUALLY DOES THAT SHIT?  
GA: Many People Actually  
GA: Just Not Anyone You Typically Associate With  
GA: That Is To Say  
GA: Not Me Or Sollux Or Terezi  
CG: GREAT. LET'S REMIND KARKAT WHAT A FUCKING LOSER HE IS AND HOW ALL HIS FRIENDS ARE TOO!  
CG: THAT'LL DEFINITELY MAKE HIM FEEL BETTER.  
CG: IT'S LIKE PUTTING WATER ON A GREASE FIRE! FUCKING PERFECT! THAT COULD NEVER BACKFIRE AND CAUSE THE WHOLE KITCHEN TO EXPLODE INTO FLAMES. FLAMES FULL OF HUMILIATION AND REGRET.  
GA: That Is Not The Point I Was Trying To Make  
CG: UGH, FUCK, I KNOW.  
CG: JUST IGNORE ME.  
CG: ANYWAY. PAST ME WAS AN IDIOT AS USUAL AND WORD VOMITED SOME STUPID FUCKING JOKE ABOUT IT BEING A DATE OR GETTING ME DINNER, I DON'T EVEN KNOW, IT WAS STUPID AND A PERFECT EXAMPLE OF WHY I SHOULD NEVER TRY TO BE COOL.  
CG: AND HE PULLED SOME NO HOMO SHIT AND I TOOK IT BADLY.  
CG: WHICH I'M SURE WILL COME AS A HUGE SHOCK TO YOU.  
CG: IT'S NOT LIKE I EVEN FUCKING THOUGHT IT WAS A DATE IN THE FIRST PLACE.  
GA: Well Do You Want It To Be  
CG: BE WHAT?  
GA: Dont Play Dumb With Me  
GA: Do You Want It To Be A Date  
CG: WHO CARES? I'M NOT GOING TO A PARTY WHERE I WILL FEEL LIKE EVEN MORE OF A TREMENDOUS WASTE OF SPACE THAN USUAL.  
GA: I Think It Could Be Fun  
GA: Also  
GA: You Are Avoiding The Question  
CG: I DON'T FUCKING KNOW, OKAY?  
CG: I'VE KNOWN HIM FOR ALL OF DAY.  
CG: HE SHOULD BE A GIGANTIC FIRST CLASS ASSHOLE AND HE KIND OF IS  
CG: BUT HE  
CG: YEAH FUCK IT THIS IS STUPID, I AM NOT SPILLING MY GUTS TO YOU OVER PESTERCHUM.  
CG: I HAVE YET TO REACH THAT NEW LOW IN MY PATHETIC EXISTANCE.  
GA: ...  
CG: DON'T THINK YOUR FUCKING SUGGESTIVE ELLIPSES ARE GOING TO CHANGE MY MIND ON THIS MATTER  
GA: ...  
CG: FUCK  
CG: YOU  
CG: BAD KANAYA. WORST FRIEND.  
GA: ...  
CG: HE'S A LOT BETTER AT BEING ME THAN I AM, OKAY?  
CG: YOU KNOW, KARKAT VANTAS, DOESN'T TAKE SHIT FROM ANYONE, THAT RIDICULOUS REPUTATION I SOMEHOW MANAGED TO GET FOR MYSELF BY GETTING ANGRY AT OPPORTUNE MOMENTS?  
CG: HE CAN PULL THAT OFF.  
CG: EVEN IF HE IS KIND OF AN INSUFFERABLE DOUCHEBAG ABOUT IT.  
GA: So I Think The Answer To My Question Is A Resounding 'Yes'  
CG: WOW I THINK I MIGHT HAVE FIGURED THAT OUT FOR MYSELF, THANKS FOR STATING THE BLINDINGLY AND SOUL-SHATTERINGLY OBVIOUS.  
GA: And You Will Be Going To That Party I Assume  
CG: I AM SUCH A MORON.  
CG: I GUESS SO.  
CG: FUCK. ME.  
GA: I Was Wondering If Perhaps I Could Tag Along  
GA: As They Say  
CG: FUCK YOU AND YOUR SELF-SERVING ADVICE.  
CG: I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF VRISKA WILL BE THERE.  
GA: Unlike Some People I Consider Myself An Optimist  
CG: YOU CAN COME IF YOU PROMISE NOT TO MEDDLE.  
GA: ...  
CG: GODDAMMIT.  
CG: WHATEVER, IT IS LATE AND I HAVE TOO MUCH WORK TO DO TO GIVE A FUCK. ALL MY FUCKS ARE CURRENTLY OCCUPIED AND WILL BE FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE.  
CG: SO FINE. FINE. IF I GET ABANDONED YOU HAD BETTER STICK WITH ME AND NOT RUN OFF.  
CG: I KNOW EVERY SINGLE BOOK ON YOUR BOOKSHELF AND I AM NOT AFRAID TO USE THIS KNOWLEDGE.  
GA: Yes Because Your DVD Collection Is Not Embarrassing In Any Way Shape Or Form  
CG: I HATE YOU.  
GA: I Care For You As Well Karkat  
GA: Now Please Go Do Your Homework Before You Give Yourself A Hernia  
GA: I Know You Have Been Staring At It For The Past Fifteen Minutes  
CG: YEAH OKAY.  
CG: THANKS FOR THE HELP.  
CG: I GUESS.

**carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering grimAuxilatrix [GA] at 9:36**

-

You stay up too late finishing all your homework (damn that English paper, damn it to hell) and go in to school early to catch up on what you missed in Calculus and Computer Programming. Mr. Slick doesn't seem to give much of a shit about you missing class, and tells you to "Go ask one of your classmates or something, kid, I've got bigger things to worry about." Those 'bigger things', in the case, probably having something to do with the picture of Snowman on his desk that he's angrily scribbling upside-down hearts on. Or maybe those are spades. Regardless, you are a little bit disturbed and abscond as quickly as possible. 

Your Computer Programming teacher is harder to deal with, but you managed to placate her by promising to have Sollux teach you the lesson. She fucking worships the ground Sollux walks on, which is unsurprising, but still grates on you. You try, goddammit, you try so fucking hard. It's not your fault you're not some insane prodigy. 

Even though you're keeping an eye out for him in the hallway, you don't see John anywhere. Probably stayed out too late and overslept, or some shit like that. You don't even know what you're going to say to him when you do see him next. It doesn't stop you from looking, though.

Eventually, you have the misfortune of running into Serket. Because, you know, your day was just going too well or something.

"Hey, loser," she says, grabbing you by the arm in the middle of the passing period. "What did you do that's got Egderp's panties all in a twist?"

"None of your business. Let go of my fucking arm." You try to pull it away, but the bitch has a steel grip or something. You're getting pretty fucking tired of being dragged around by your arm, to be honest.

"Don't be so lame, it's not like I'm going to rip it off! Drama queen. Just go fix whatever you did, _okay_? He's been pouting for like an hour and it's really getting on my nerves!"

"Your life sounds so difficult," you bite out, but she's already gone, plowing straight through the freshman clogging the middle of the hallway and shoving them unceremoniously out of the way. 

Serket, of course, in an effort to be as unhelpful as humanly possible, didn't tell you where you could find John. Great. It's not like you can just go wandering around looking for him. You are not skipping any more classes because of John. So you dutifully got to French and completely fail to pay attention to verb conjugations or whatever you're even supposed to be learning today, because you still have no idea what you're going to say to him. 

You're probably just going to say something stupid and embarrass yourself again. As if any other outcome is remotely possible.

By the end of the day, you still have no idea what the fuck you're supposed to do, and you've barely heard any of your lessons. The fuckass is distracting without even being near you.

You have no idea how you're supposed to find John. You don't know where his locker is, you don't know how long he stays at school after the bell--or even if he stayed _until_ the goddamn bell, now that you think about it. 

You end up deciding to just give the whole idea up, and head towards the art rooms to go find Kanaya. And, lo and behold, the universe has apparently decided to just this once throw you a bone and actually be fucking helpful, because when you pass by the band room, you glance inside and notice that John is stretched out on his stomach, playing the keyboard, of all things.

"Why the fuck does the school even have a keyboard?" is the first thing out of your mouth. Well. At least you didn't plan anything to say, because then you'd probably hate yourself even more than you already do for saying something so pointless.

John startles, and messes up whatever he was playing. He glares at the keyboard for a moment, as if it's somehow the instrument's fault, and then he rolls over and tips his head backwards so he can look at you.

He is such an idiot. He is the idiotest. They probably put something in the water of this school, there is no other fucking reason for why you think that his antics are _cute_. There just isn't.

"Well," he says, "I have no idea! I was hanging out here one day, waiting for Jade to find her sax, and I got bored, so I started digging around in a closet. And I found this! So I come here sometimes to play it. It's pretty peaceful, so it usually cheers me up. Most of the time I stick it under some empty boxes in the corner, so I'm not sure everyone else knows that it's here."

"You purposefully hide it so that you're the only one who can play it? Are you serious?"

He shrugs. "There's a real piano over there. I mean, no one else would appreciate it as much, you know?"

"I really don't," you sigh, and you go and sit down next to him. He did look happy playing it, though. "Listen. I'm sorry I was acting like an immense moron last night. I do that a lot, especially after getting dragged around town against my will by a total stranger."

"Huh. I think you just managed to give me a backhanded apology, Karkat." 

"Yeah, that's kind of what I was talking about. Dammit."

John just laughs. "Nah, it works for me! I was just worried I'd pissed you off, is all."

"Why didn't you worry about that _earlier_ , when you repeatedly ignored my objections to basically everything for hours on end?"

John sticks his hands behind his head and looks up at you. "I guess I just didn't really think of it until then?"

"Has anyone ever told you you're oblivious and have little to no sense of tact or self preservation?"

"Um, not in so many words, but I think a lot of people have probably told me that. Also I think you probably said a bunch of stuff like that yesterday!" He scratches at his tattoo again. You notice, because your life is terrible and you're probably kind of staring at him. You're going to kill Kanaya. She is the worst advice-giver. It is her. Now you can't get it out of your head, the idea that you might want to go on a date with this fuckass. Without her and her insistence on having online feeling jams you'd probably just be able to forget about it and continue on with your miserable existence, blissfully Egderp free. 

Ugh, what are you even thinking, this is obviously all your fault for being the kind of loser to get a crush on a lame punk with an attitude problem.

You flap your hand at him, shoving the other one into your forehead and glaring down at the floor. "So is that party still a thing that is happening? It hasn't like, been cancelled due to a termite infestation or poison gas attack or anything? Because that would just be really fucking typical of the way my life usually goes."

"Oh, so you'll come?" John brightens right up. You glare at the ground harder.

"Yeah, sure," you say. "Why the fuck not."

-

Dave Strider's house is huge, and also a huge mess. You and Kanaya make your way there about half an hour late, not because you're trying to pull some "fashionably late" bullshit, but because you had to spend twenty minutes telling Kanaya that no, your clothes are perfectly fucking fine and you do not need to change, now can we fucking go already?

So by the time you get there, obnoxiously loud music is already playing, and obnoxiously loud kids are already stumbling around, either because they're drunk or high or just innately really fucking stupid, you honestly can't tell. You're already beginning to regret deciding to come. 

"Calm down, Karkat," Kanaya tells you. "Try not to overthink the situation too much."

"Easy for you to say. You actually possess some modicum of grace, whereas I manage to fuck up every social situation I ever find myself in. If I ever went into politics, Saturday Night Live would probably be so happy they'd send me a fruit basket."

"I'm sure it will be fine. Let's try to find at least one of the objects of our affection, shall we?"

You shall. It's not like you know anyone else at this godforsaken party, surprise surprise. 

There's no sign of Vriska anywhere, and Kanaya makes a show of not being visibly disappointed. As if she could fool you. Eventually you do run into John in what looks like a game room, judging by the TV and assortment of controllers lying around. He's talking animatedly to Rose Lalonde, who looks calm and composed as ever, despite the hectic atmosphere. You envy her deeply.

"Hey!" John calls, when he catches sight of you awkwardly waffling in his periphery. "I was worried you'd changed your mind again."

"Sorry," you say, "Kanaya kept critizing my wardrobe choices and made us late." You glare at her. She gazes back at you coolly and tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"I still stand by my statement that you could look much nicer," she says. "You are wasting quite a bit of fashion potential, you know."

Rose nods along with her. "A T-shirt and jeans is rather bland and overdone," she says.

John snorts. "Yeah, Karkat, you should dress more like me!" His jeans are ripped and marked up with Sharpie all over, and his T-shirt is for some band you've never heard of, and he has a few chains threaded through his belt loops. He looks like he belongs in a skate park or something.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "You're right," you say. "What I really need is to carry around graffiti all over my legs, and obviously those chains are totally necessary, I bet you go out wrangling wild beasts with them every day. How fucking practical of you."

Immediately after you finish speaking you want to smack yourself. Yes, of course, insult him! This is the best plan you've ever had! But John starts laughing instead of getting offended, because oh right, you forgot, he's incapable of taking anything seriously. But at least he doesn't bristle at your invective. 

Rose smiles slightly as well. "He does have a point there," she says. 

"Bluh bluh bluh, let's all make fun of John's awesome clothing because we can never hope to be as cool as he is! I get it," he says. "I am wounded. So wounded that one of you should totally grab me something to drink from The Room Formerly Known As Dave's Kitchen, Which Is Actually Now Basically Rose's Mom's Liquor Cabinet to make up for it!"

Rose rolls her eyes. "As you wish, Your Laziness," she says.

"I'll accompany you," Kanaya says. "I'm still looking for a friend of mine, and I strongly suspect she may be there."

"You want anything, Karkat?" John asks.

"You say that as if you'll be the one getting it," Rose says.

"No, I prefer to have all my senses intact when I'm around as many idiots as there are populating this house," you say. "And I drove here, and don't actually want to spend the night in the Strider home. There are horror stories about this fucking place."

John scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Most of those are my fault," he says. "Late night pranks are the best kind!"

Rose shakes her head, and she and Kanaya leave in search of drinks and broads. It's just you and John and lot of game controllers. 

You look at him. His black eye's completely faded now, not that it makes him look any more respectable. You try to imagine bringing him home to meet your father and have to resist the urge to wince. Now that would be entertaining, in the trainwreck sort of way. You bet John's the type who loves the parts in TV shows where characters do mind-numbingly stupid things and are in general huge fucking embarrassments to themselves and others. Personally, you can't stand comedy of errors. Your own life errs in a comedic fashion plenty, thanks all the same.

"Uh, what are you thinking about?" John asks. "You're kind of staring at me."

Yes, Karkat, get lost in your thoughts while staring at John's punkass face. Good idea, best plan!

Kanaya had better get back here soon. You'd pester her on your phone but you're pretty sure she'd ignore it in revenge for you refusing to change your clothes. Someday you will learn to just listen to her.

Of course, that's what got you here in the first place.

"Stupid sitcoms. Sorry, I kind of spaced out there."

"Heh, really? You sure you're not drunk?" You narrow your eyes at him. "Just kidding! I figured you'd be the straight-laced type, no worries."

"And you're not going to spike anything I drink as a prank? Because somehow, I wouldn't put it past you."

"Rose gave me this whole lecture about it before the party," he says. "I'm not actually that awful, you know!"

"Oh, I just figured you probably slept late the day they were teaching Basic Fucking Etiquette classes, since you seem to lack any skills in that area. My bad, I guess you're just unconscionably terrible at it despite your best efforts. I can relate, I'm pretty fucking terrible at programming and it's my favorite thing ever, aside from getting some peace and quiet once in a while. And it says a lot about the sad state of my life that the former is easier to do."

John fucking giggles, of all things. You wonder how much he's had to drink already. Ugh, whatever, it's not like being drunk could make him into any more of an asshole. "I'm surprised you're not chewing me out for drinking. I tried to decide what metaphor you would use for it but it turns out I'm ridiculously terrible at it. Um, so, how's 'it's like sticking your brain on a rocket ship and adding fuel like it's Mountain Dew'?"

"That doesn't make any fucking sense. And I prefer Red Bull."

"Like _your_ metaphors make any sense! Soda-wise, I guess I like both, but I hang out with the theater kids sometimes and Dew is literally all they will drink. It's kind of scary sometimes. Rose even drinks it, I can't believe she touches the stuff."

You try to imagine Rose Lalonde, classy dame extraordinaire, drinking Mountain Dew out of a can like a common plebian. You decide your brain really doesn't need to deal with that much cognitive dissonance right now and move on. "My metaphors are awesome, don't even try to deny it. You're all over them like bees are on that fancy foreign honey Sollux buys like a complete loser."

John grins, and flops down onto the couch. "Heh, I totally am."

Before you can come up with the proper reply to that, Rose and Kanaya return, drinks in hand. You wonder where in the world they found little drink umbrellas in the Strider house. Rose probably brought them. They hand John a beer, you a can of soda, and keep the frilly umbrella drinks for themselves. 

"Did you find Serket?" you ask.

"No," Kanaya replies. "I have been informed by Rose that she will be quite late to the party, if she ends up coming at all." She doesn't seem nearly as put out by this as she would have been an hour ago. "However, Rose has offered to show me some of her knitting projects, so I'm afraid I must leave you once again."

"You keep knitting projects at Strider's house?" you ask.

Rose inclines her head in something like a shrug. "Our parents are old friends. We spend a good deal of time together, so some things do begin to migrate."

"Knitting? You guys are so boring," is all John has to contribute to the conversation.

"And that's why I didn't extend the invitation to you," Rose replies easily. Clearly she's used to this. "Although you are, of course, always welcome to come to me if you wish to learn the wonders of the art. My door is always proverbially open. Literally, though, Mom has begun to lock it after the incident during freshman year."

John shuts right up and turns faintly red. You kind of want to know the story behind that, except you think you probably really really don’t. Kanaya merely raises an eyebrow, and follows Rose out of the room.

You mimic her, raising an eyebrow of your own at John. He buries his face in his hands. "My prankster's gambit is still recovering from that," he says through his fingers. You shake your head in a manner that is not fond at all. 

He takes a swig of his beer. You sit down next to him on the couch and try to decide whether or not to pry into his embarrassing past or talk about something else. Your mouth ends up deciding for you before you can give it much thought. 

"I lost a friend by being a dick about it," you say, because lately word vomit has become your thing. John looks at you curiously, but doesn't say anything. "That's why I try not to care when people drink, or get high or what the fuck ever. I was really good friends with this guy in middle school, he was pretty ridiculous but he was awesome too. Listened to ICP, you know, that kind of annoying fuckwit. And freshman year he started hanging out with a bunch of new people and I felt kind of… fuck, I felt betrayed, I guess. And he started smoking pot all the time, and I kind of blew up at him about it. We were both irrational fucks, probably mostly me, I guess, but he stopped hanging out with me and we haven't spoken since." You turn your face to the side a little and scratch the side of your neck. 

"Oh," he says, intelligent and thought provoking as ever. Then, "Well, have you tried talking to him lately?"

"What part of 'we haven't spoken since freshman year' didn't penetrate your skull?" You always get defensive after talking about Gamzee. 

"I mean, if it was two years ago, maybe it's all water under the bridge now? Oh, hey, that was a pretty okay metaphor!"

"And really fucking original, too. Anyway, I wouldn't even know where to find him."

"Well, you're talking about Gamzee Makara, right?"

"How the fuck do you know that?"

"He's the only guy in the stoner crowd I know who's into ICP."

"Do you know everybody or something?" you ask.

He shrugs. "I like people! I mean, I guess I don't like all of them, really, but then they're fun to mess with anyway. So I try to meet new people in my spare time if I can."

"And of course, in your world, all your time is free time."

"Heh, I guess! Anyway. You should try talking to him if it's really still bothering you that much, I could tell you where to find him. Gamzee's pretty chill."

You shrug. You kind of don't want to talk about this anymore. John drinks some more of his beer, and suggests you play some of Dave's incredibly shitty games, and you agree readily. 

-

John ends up drinking several more beers, which only helps you, as his playing gets worse and worse. Not that it really matters, since whatever fantastically awful game you're playing at the moment keeps freezing up and getting your cars stuck between buildings.

"Where did Strider even find this piece of shit?"

"Dunno," John says cheerfully. "I think it was a birthday present from his Bro or something. His family's pretty weird, I kind of try not to ask too much, don't want to step on any toes! Dave's weirdly protective of his shitty stuff, too. Irony or something? I don't really get it."

"He's just an idiot, like the vast majority of the human population."

"You say that about everyone!"

"Yeah, fuckass, that's what 'vast majority' _means_." 

"Whatever you say, Karkat," he says, which you're pretty sure just means he's tired of using his brain too much and wants to stare at the screen some more.

"Hey, asshole," you say.

"Hmm?"

"Is there any particular reason no on else has dared enter this hallowed corner of the Strider home? It's not any less unpleasant than the rest of the house, and there were a ton of people when Kanaya and I came in. Obnoxious people, and statistically some of them would have to stumble in here in a stupor at some point during the night."

"Rose probably scared them off or something," John offers vaguely.

"And why would she do that?" you ask.

"Oh, you know. Because of reasons, probably! It's Rose. She always has reasons, she's diabolical like that."

"And would any of those reasons have anything to do with you asking her to do it?" you ask mildly. Well. As mildly as you can get.

John steadfastly ignores the question, in favor of maneuvering his car through a fire hydrant and two streetlights. Directly through, because the physics in this game are probably based on Newton's faulty pre-apple calculations, or something. In a moment of rare but glorious smoothness, you manage to throw your controller towards the Xbox and hit the power button perfectly. In one fell swoop, you manage to rid John of his excuse to not answer you, and you save your brain from beginning its transformation into a poorly rendered polygon.

John, apparently giving up on the ignoring you portion of the evening, just watches this with a derpy smile on his derpy face. "Man, Karkat, you're kind of really really adorable, you know that?"

"What the fuck, John, I am not fucking adorable," you growl at him. "Jesus, what is wrong with you? Just because I'm not some badass punk with a motorcycle and a tattoo and all that shit doesn't mean I'm a fucking teddy bear."

"Aw, c'mon, I didn't mean it like that, calm down," John says. You try to get up from the couch, but he grabs your wrist. He stares at it for a moment, before he changes him mind and lets it go.

You sit down again.

"Why do you make everything so hard for yourself, anyway?" he asks. Is this the stage of drunkenness where he starts to be serious? You were enjoying the hapless cheeriness, you want to go back to that. 

On the other hand, it is quickly becoming obvious that he purposefully set things up so that the two of you would be alone. So maybe he actually does have something important to say.

"It's not _my_ fault the universe was clearly created just to antagonize me and cause me pain." 

"That doesn't mean you can't just take a compliment, though!"

"Being called 'adorable' is not a fucking compliment."

"I don't mean it like 'oh look at Karkat he's a puppy', I mean it like 'oh look at Karkat he's kind of fucking hot', or I guess that sounds more like something you would say but whatever."

You stare at him. There's no way he's serious. He's probably just drunk, or joking, or being mind controlled by illicit baking corporations or something. 

"And you always get that incredulous look when I say anything nice about you! Is it so hard to believe that I just like you, Karkat? I like spending time with you. I think I should do more of it." He grins at you, and it takes you a minute, but you smile back at him. 

Then his smile turns sly, and you don't get much of a chance to worry about it before he tugs at your waist and pulls you on top of him.

You end up in his lap, straddling his thighs, and you'd probably feel awkward if he didn't keep looking at you like…like he wants you here. Like he likes you. You can feel your cheeks coloring and you force yourself not to care. It's dim, since your were using the light of the game to see, and you have better night vision than most, so you bet he can't even fucking tell. John's flushed too, but it's probably the alcohol for him.

John digs his hands into your hair. You blush harder. Goddammit. "Hey, Karkat," John says. "Can I kiss you?"

"As if that isn't obviously where this is going," you mutter. 

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes. Hell ye-" he cuts you off, and you'd be pissed except he's kissing you and you wonder how many people he's kissed before, because he's good at it. Really good at it, he knows just the right angle to tip your head to, and he bites at your lip, which you're pretty sure should hurt, but is actually just really hot.

You've never kissed anyone before. You'd never admit it to anyone, least of all John, but you're glad that this ridiculous, idiotic boy, who doesn't care what anyone thinks, is your first kiss. It's such a girly thing to think, but at this point you don't even care. John tastes like sour beer and you don't even care about that either.

Eventually you both break apart, just as you're starting to get the hang of this whole making out thing. Unfortunately, you're still working on the breathing part, but you figure that's not important right now. 

His hands start to creep up your shirt.

"You're drunk," you say, grabbing them before they can go too far.

"I'm not _that_ drunk," he says, although of course he's still more intoxicated than you've ever been.

"I just... don't want you to regret any of this in the morning," you say, ducking your head down.

"I'm not going to regret anything in the morning," he says, cupping your cheek. "Seriously, Karkat. You need to stop putting yourself down so much."

"I'm just some kid you ran into in the hallway. All your friends are way cooler than me. And you're this edgy punk who goes to parties, and I'm just the straight-laced nerd. What am I supposed to think?"

"That I don't care what anyone else has told you about yourself? _I_ like you. When I first saw you in that hallway, I seriously did think you were… I can't say adorable. Your vocabulary restrictions are really cramping my style, Karkat. Adorabloodthirsty? How about that? It's totally right for you. You were so pissed off but so cute, too, you know?"

"No, I don't. Please enlighten me as to the wonders of your made up words," you say, but there's no bite.

"See? Totally adorabloodthirsty." And he leans up and kisses you again, softer this time. 

-

You wake up warm and comfortable and still on Strider's shitty couch. John fell asleep somewhere in the middle of sloppy makeouts and you didn't feel the need to move, because he makes a really nice pillow, okay? You texted your dad that you had to stay over at Kanaya's to work on a presentation, and he agreed, because the upside of being a good kid is that your parents actually trust you. 

Of course, the aforementioned really nice pillow seems to have vacated the premises at the moment, along with most of your higher brain functioning, apparently, because it's taken you this long to start freaking out.

You try not to, but honestly, it's not like you don't have any fucking reason to. The facts are these: John kissed you last night, at a party he asked you to go to and made some sort of effort to get you alone at, and which he also claimed wasn't a date when he invited you. And now you have no idea where he is. You're kind of the best there is at mixed messages, and even you don't know what the hell you're supposed to conclude from all that.

You drag yourself up off the couch and go to look for John. He'd better have a good fucking explanation for this.

The first place you look ends up being the right one, which is either a product of your latent psychic abilities or the fact that your growling stomach led you to the kitchen. Either way, John's here, head pillowed on his arms facedown on the table.

"Dave, if that's you, please take pity on me and shut up for five seconds," he says, not looking up.

"I think that'd be a bit much to ask of the dipshit, so lucky you, you get me instead."

"Oh! Karkat!" John shoots up immediately. He scratches his wrist and looks steadily at the patch of wall just behind your shoulder, and then he starts talking about a mile a minute. "Hey! Did you sleep okay? Um, listen. About last night…"

Oh, fuck this shit, you do not have to deal with this. You've seen enough rom coms to know where this is going. "Yeah, okay, I get it, I'll just leave, thank you and fuck you and goodbye." You turn to go.

"Wait!" John stands up, biting his lip. "Please don't leave, Karkat." He tugs at one of his earrings, thinking. You tap your foot and start mentally playing the Jeopardy theme song in your head--he only has so long before you are leaving and forgetting the past three days ever happened. "Sorry. I'm not trying to be a dick, I just…don't really know what I'm doing here."

You roll your eyes. "Wow, John Egbert doesn't know what he's doing. I am so shocked. I could not be any more shocked if my abominably poor luck and decision making finally led to me being repeatedly struck by lightening, that is how fucking shocked I am." He smiles at you. You don't return it. "Yeah, I'm just so fucking 'adorabloodthirsty', right? Do you say that to all the girls?"

John's face falls. "No," he says. "Karkat, I meant it. I know I'm kind of fucking this up, it's just." He stops and shuffles his feet a little, staring at the floor.

"If you have something to say, will you fucking spit it out already?"

"I just really, really like you," he says, looking you straight in the eyes. "And I've never done this before."

"What, you expect me to believe you've never made out with anyone at a party before?"

"Not someone I actually cared about," he says. "I mean, as more than just a friend. I kind of was trying to ask you out at the arcade, except I didn't really think you'd pick up on it, and then you did except I think you were just joking and I freaked out about it once I thought about too much. Usually I just go with the flow and don't think too much about stuff and it always turns out okay."

You sit down at the kitchen table, since this is clearly going to be a long conversation. "Yeah, I kind of figured that out after you kidnapped me out of the fucking blue."

He rubs at the back of his neck and sits down across from you. "I guess I just wanted to actually plan this and make it work out. I tried talking to Rose about it but she started using a lot of big words and I kind of zoned out at some point. And she was the one who made sure we were alone, and I was having fun and I really wanted to kiss you and I'd had enough to drink that I could just not worry about it. So I did and it was awesome, but this morning I flipped and I was just thinking like, I have no idea how to have a boyfriend or be a boyfriend but I really want to try and I just. Am an idiot. Sorry."

"And you're not used to not just doing what you like?" You lean your head on your hand and look him over. He seems sincere, and it's not like you can't relate to people who consistently dig themselves into deeper and deeper holes. You think about telling him that he's babbling and should maybe try to stop almost hyperventilating, but it's kind of nice to see him so worked up about something for once.

"I'm not used to it mattering so much," he says. "But I really like you, Karkat."

"You don't have to say that all the damn time, you know."

"But I think I kind of do!" And then he takes a deep breath, like he's bracing himself, and he says, "Um, also, I'd really like to be your boyfriend, if that's okay." He's giving you this puppy dog look and he's fucking terrified, you can tell, he's scratching at his tattoo like mad. But he still sucked it up and asked you anyway.

You should probably say no. He's clearly unreliable as fuck and is probably going to break your heart horribly without even meaning to, and then Kanaya will attack him with one of the chainsaws she keeps for the bushes in her garden and then everything will be awful.

But, well, you like him too. And you might as well try to make yourself happy for a change.

"Yeah, okay, why not," you say. "I think we've already hit the all-time high point of your idiocy, and the likelihood of Kanaya actually murdering you with a chainsaw is fairly low."

"Um," he says, "that's not exactly the enthusiastic response I was hoping for."

"You complaining?"

"No," he says, leaning over the table to cup your cheek. He hesitates, and you roll your eyes and close the distance yourself. In for a penny, in for a pound. 

Your stomach decides that this is a fine opportunity to start growling again, and so John breaks the kiss by giggling at you. You grumble at him, and get up to go investigate what the fridge has in store for you.

Despite John's hasty warning, you manage to find out, first-hand, that what the fridge has in store is a pile of shitty swords and a few stray puppets. 

There are a few Eggo waffles stuffed in the back, though, and you make John toast them for you, because you are going to celebrate your first day of having a boyfriend in style.

-

The fuckass, of course, manages to do something even more mind-shatteringly stupid the next night. It is, however, hilarious, which you guess is what you signed up for.

Apparently, John Egbert, many-friended punk extraordinaire, has nothing better to do on a Sunday night than stand on his motorcycle outside your house, holding a beat up iPod blasting (as much as an iPod can blast anything, which is not a fucking lot) "How Do I Live" in the direction of your bedroom window.

After you get done laughing your ass off at him, and then finish laughing your ass off at the dismayed expression on his face caused by your first laughing fit, you go downstairs to go talk to him. Like hell you're going to yell at him from your window; you're doing that shit face to face.

When you get outside he's leaning against Casey, and he's turned his iPod off. You would have worried about your dad hearing, but it's not like the thing was particularly loud anyway.

"You couldn't even spring for speakers? Those things have the shittiest sound quality known to man without headphones."

"Dave wouldn't let me borrow his," John says with a pout.

"Probably the most intelligent thing he's done in months. I'm impressed. What the fuck do you think you're doing, anyway?"

"I went to Kanaya for advice," he says. "She said you really like dumb chick flicks--"

"That goddamn traitor," you cut in.

"Heh, I think it's kind of cute! Anyway, she said you especially loved Con Air, so I stayed up last night watching it. And it had this song at the end and it was so sweet and I guess I thought you'd appreciate it? But I'm obviously missing something since you're on the ground laughing, so. Um." He plops down next to you and nudges you in the side with his foot.

You wipe a tear from the corner of your eye and sit up. You take back everything bad you've ever said or will say about Kanaya. She is perfect in every way.

"I fucking hate that movie," you say. "I watched it once with Kanaya and I wanted to puke."

"Dude, are you kidding? That movie was awesome."

"And that part with the song at the end? I cam very close to giving up on movies forever, it's a good thing Hitch came along to restore my faith."

"I feel betrayed," John says, staring forlornly at his iPod. "I was trying to do something nice for you."

You snicker. "Giving me more humorous examples of the vast and never-ending depths of your idiocy is good enough. I'll take what I can get."

He shoves you over, and you end up in something of a one-sided wrestling match, because what the fuck, you are way too old for this shit.

In the end, you push him off you and tug the grass out of your hair. You leave the twigs in his, and he doesn't bother doing anything about them. Punk. "Alright, now unless you're going to help teach me the wonders of integration by parts, please get the hell off my property so I can do some Calculus and be a productive member of society. At least one of us has to."

It only takes you another thirty minutes to make him actually go. You'll call that progress.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I may eventually end up writing a Kanaya/Vriska/Rose sequel-sidestory type thing for this. We'll see. (I may have lost control of my life.)
> 
> also, now with really adorable [fanart](http://affectionatetea.tumblr.com/post/57556347309) by affectionatetea!


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